


And daily greets... a Slytherin?

by sam04



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Developing Relationship, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, HP: EWE, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-03
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-10-27 11:10:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10807872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sam04/pseuds/sam04
Summary: Harry relives one day again and again - and learns that some people are actually worth being called friends (or something more?). It just needs a look below the surface.





	And daily greets... a Slytherin?

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Und täglich grüßt... ein Slytherin?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10806414) by [sam04](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sam04/pseuds/sam04). 



> Hello again! 
> 
> For the sake of this story, I invented bathtubs in the bathrooms of the Gryffindor common rooms. If I remember correctly the only bathtubs in Hogwarts are in the prefect bathroom but just bear with me ;)
> 
> Have fun reading!  
> Sam xx

# Chapter One: Day X

 

When Harry Potter woke up on this Thursday morning, he already knew that it might not become the best day of the year.

 

For once he wasn’t lying in his four-poster bed with the heavy, dark-red curtains like his classmates Ron Weasley or Neville Longbottom.

 

No.

 

He, Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, the one who defeated Lord Voldemort and saved the country from a life in tyranny, lay on the ground _beside_ his four-poster bed, trapped in his duvet and the above-mentioned curtains which he must have pulled down during the night.

 

Moaning, he got up and tried to free himself from the duvet-curtain-bundle. When he threw a look at his alarm clock, he noticed it was only half past four in the morning. No wonder then that everyone else was still asleep.

 

Cursing silently, he kicked the duvet away and shuffled to the bathroom since he knew there was no hope for more sleep. Instead he ran himself a bath and decided to make the best out of this early morning.

 

But when he tried to climb into the bathtub, he slipped and fell head-first into the steaming water where he promptly hit his head on the tiles.

 

‘For fuck’s sake,’ he grumbled, coughing and spluttering, when he emerged from the water again and held his forehead. He could already feel a bump forming there. What the hell was wrong this morning?!

 

He decided to stay in the bathtub until the rest of his dormmates woke up so that he wouldn’t wake them with any other accidents. The rest of the morning he used for reconstructing his time table and found that Merlin definitely hated him – his day would start with double potions. And as if that wasn’t enough, he knew that the potion they had to brew today would count a third of their mark. All in all, bleak prospects for that day.

 

*

 

Seamus Finnigan was the first one to stumble into the bathroom and came to an abrupt halt when he saw Harry already sitting in the bathtub.

 

‘Morning,’ the brunette muttered disgruntled.

 

‘Good morning!’ Seamus sing-songed, obviously in a great mood. Harry threw him a murderous look. How could someone be that happy that early in the morning?

 

‘You look like shit,’ observed Dean Thomas, who entered the bathroom after Seamus and started immediately to splash water in his face.

 

‘Thank you,’ Harry replied moaning and let himself sink underwater. Dean and Seamus snorted with laughter before they moved on to the showers.

 

Harry decided that he had been long enough in the water and tried to climb out as careful as possible.

 

It didn’t work.

 

He slipped and hit the tiles again – this time with the back of his head.

 

‘Ow…,’ he whined after the stars before his eyes had vanished and he could get up. ‘What did I do to you Merlin?’ he asked with a look at the ceiling. No answer came, obviously.

 

Slowly he made his way back to the dorm where Ron and Neville were already awake and sitting up, rubbing the sleep out of their eyes.

 

‘Morning,’ Ron grumbled in his direction. He seemed to have as bad a mood as Harry, although Harry felt as if he had slightly more reason to, considering his start in the day.

 

To not antagonize him any further, he just nodded to Ron and went to find some clothes. He needed five tries to button up his shirt and another three for his tie.

 

When he was finally finished, the clock already said a quarter to nine. Moaning, Harry fell backwards on his bed. Maybe he should stay here after all? The day didn’t look as if one really had to witness it.

 

‘C’mon mate. Hermione is downstairs and she’s shouting for us!’ Ron appeared next to his bed. Harry nodded, sighing. It seemed like he couldn’t escape.

 

Together they trudged downstairs where Hermione was already waiting for them with crossed arms, looking very annoyed.

 

‘Would it hurt you to be on time at least _once_?’ she snapped at them then turned and marched up to the portrait hole which opened up immediately and let her through.

 

‘Bloody hell, as if we’re always late!’ Ron whispered to Harry, so loud that Hermione just had to hear him. And indeed, she promptly whirled around and flashed her eyes at Ron.

 

‘Ronald Weasley, I honestly doubt that you even know how to spell ‘punctual’ correctly!’ she hissed. Harry tried to squeeze past them both since he really didn’t want to listen to their - by now daily - argument. He had almost made it when Ron suddenly turned around with a ‘Yes? Well, good for you!’ and boxed his elbow in Harry’s stomach at full tilt before he stormed downstairs. Hermione followed him promptly with a ‘Yes, it is!’

 

Harry held his stomach and sighed deeply. He sent a longing look to the portrait of the Fat Lady but she seemed to be out at some kind of tea party so that there was no chance of going back to the tower.

 

Feeling resigned, he made his way directly to the dungeons since the little time he had was nowhere near enough for breakfast. The Potions corridor was already filled with students and somewhere in the back he could hear Ron and Hermione’s voices who were obviously still arguing.

 

Moaning he leaned against the wall and wished himself back to bed just to skip the day and pretend it didn’t exist. Not a second later Professor Snape rushed around a corner and with a ‘Weasley, Granger, five points from Gryffindor for both of you. Kindly discuss your relationship problems in your common room!’ he let them into the classroom.

 

Before they could take their usual seats, Snape said: ‘Since you will brew an important potion today – important for your mark – we want to see how well you can find your way around in a new team. That’s why I bothered to arrange all of you in pairs from which I am sure that they will be a… challenge’ His lips curled at the word. ‘for each of you. So. Bullstrode – Granger. Goyle – Thomas. Malfoy – Potter. Nott – Finnigan. Parkinson – Brown. Zabini – Weasley. You’ll find the potion on the blackboard. Start now.’

 

Harry closed his eyes for a moment and pinched himself in the weak hope everything might just be a simple nightmare – which, sadly, it wasn’t. ‘Why? Why?’ he whispered tonelessly and opened his eyes again. What in the world had he done to be punished so much today?

 

‘Get the ingredients, Potter,’ he heard Malfoy’s voice behind him and Harry actually went, although mostly to just be away from Malfoy.

 

His tactic even worked; since he hadn’t run to the supply cabinet straight away, he had to wait rather long until he could grab the ingredients.

 

When he came back to their table – Malfoy’s usual table, of course – Malfoy had already put up the – his – cauldron, filled it with water and ignited a fire under it.

 

‘No hurry,’ Malfoy snapped sarcastically as soon as Harry had dropped the ingredients onto their table but Harry who was in no mood to trade childish insults with Malfoy just rolled his eyes and sat down.

 

Malfoy obviously wasn’t used to Harry not reacting to him because when he looked at him after five silent minutes, Malfoy had his lips pressed together to a tight white line and looked as if he had bitten into a rather sour lemon.

 

Harry shrugged and turned back to his mountain onion which he tried to cut into equal cubes.

 

Besides him, Malfoy hissed suddenly and there was a splash. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see how Malfoy held his arm tightly and in his hand was a glass of salamander blood above the cauldron which however was so askew that the blood flew unhindered into it.

 

‘Dammit Malfoy!’ Harry cursed and tried to grab the glass before anything worse could happen when it suddenly slipped from Malfoys fingers and nearly fell into the cauldron if it hadn’t been for Harry’s Seeker reflexes.

 

Harry released his breath stockingly and put the glass back on the table. Only then he realised what had happened.

 

Malfoy had held his forearm. His left forearm.

 

Exactly where the Dark Mark was.

 

‘Malfoy…,’ Harry whispered, shocked. It was impossible! Voldemort was dead! How could the Dark Mark hurt?

 

‘Don’t say anything!’ Malfoy hissed, his face white as snow. ‘Just don’t say anything…’ Suddenly, he sounded exhausted.

 

Harry really did stay silent but in his mind, his thoughts turned upside down. His eyes wandered to Snape who was leaning above Nott’s and Seamus’ cauldron but he didn’t look as if he had just experienced any pain in his arm. How in Merlin’s name was that possible? Had only Malfoy’s mark hurt? Had they found a way to resurrect Voldemort? Was it possible to have missed a horcrux?

 

‘Stop thinking so hard, Potter. You look as if your head is going to explode,’ Malfoy muttered besides him. When Harry looked up he noticed Malfoy watching him.

‘I know what you think. Don’t worry. The Dark Lord hasn’t returned. This time you did everything right.’ His voice was blank but Harry could see the shock in his eyes, well-hidden of course, but Harry could see it nonetheless.

 

Harry nodded slowly. He didn’t know why Malfoy had told him that and especially did he not know why the Blonde was suddenly so friendly to him. Maybe a residual effect of the shock.

 

‘Thanks…,’ he mumbled finally when Malfoy didn’t say anything else. The Slytherin just nodded then threw a look inside their cauldron and sighed.

 

‘That’s useless. We have to start again,’ he said and vanished the faulty potion with a flick of his wand.

 

In the end, Harry and Malfoy managed to work more or less peacefully through the whole of double Potions, at least without any greater arguments. They even got – to Harry’s surprise and pleasure - an Acceptable for their potion.

 

In a slightly better mood than in the morning, Harry followed Ron and Hermione to the classroom for History of Magic. Normally, Harry hated Thursdays especially for having all of their courses together with the Slytherins but after surviving the first two lessons with the Slytherin who was usually the worst of them all, he was rather optimistic about the rest of the day.

 

History of Magic was, as always, tiring and boring, so that Harry asked himself how to spend the next two hours as soon as Professor Binns finished checking the attendance list. For a moment, he was wondering if he should just take a nap but then he saw Malfoy who was sitting near a window and staring outside out of the corner of his eyes and changed his mind. Malfoy was even paler than usual and – Harry frowned in confusion – sitting alone. All of the other Slytherins were sitting more at the front and were talking to each other or dozing.

 

Now that Harry thought about it, he noticed that he hadn’t seen Malfoy with his friends for a rather long time. He was mostly alone in the library or walking around on the grounds. Frowning, Harry watched him. He looked exhausted, Harry thought. And he didn’t seem to eat properly.

 

Wait a minute. What in the world was he thinking? Was he actually worrying about Malfoy?

 

A moment later Harry had to admit that it was true. He did worry about Malfoy.

 

Draco Malfoy had changed since the war, as had everyone, but he was one of those where it was the most obvious. He hadn’t really insulted any of them since they were back at Hogwarts and he always seemed to be alone. His change of heart was apparently not very welcome in Slytherin, though.

 

Before Harry could think about what he was doing, he took two rolls of parchment out of his bag, rolled up one of it and levitated it to Malfoy. Then he took his quill and started to write.

 

_Hey, Malfoy_

It was almost funny to see Malfoy whirling around to him, something wild in his eyes. He looked so much like the _old_ Malfoy that Harry almost thought he wouldn’t get an answer but by then Malfoy had already taken up his own quill and was writing carefully on his own roll of parchment.

 

_Potter?!_

_It’s a two-way-parchment. Hermione made it. If a teacher looks at it, he’ll only see notes from class. Practical, isn’t it?_

Harry resisted the urge to bang his head against the table – one bump a day was more than enough. ‘Practical, isn’t it?’ Really? Merlin, he sounded like a schoolboy with a crush…

 

_Uh-huh._

_Well, eh… how are you?_

_Potter, what is this? If you’re bored, then go and talk to Weasley or Granger._

_And if I want to talk to you?_

_Then you are even more stupid then I thought. And that’s a huge accomplishment._

_Your Dark Mark hurt back then, didn’t it?_

_Ah, there we are. The crux of the matter._

Harry noticed how Malfoy’s expression immediately closed off even though he had looked rather amused until now and he pushed the parchment resolutely away. Dammit.

 

_Come on, can’t you… just answer some questions for me? Please?_

The brunette couldn’t hide his grin when Malfoy with an annoyed look took the parchment back and wrote something down.

 

_Ask._

_Okay, so, your Dark Mark hurt, right?_

_Yes._

_And… Voldemort is really dead, isn’t he? You didn’t find some creepy way to resurrect him?_

_No. He’s deader than dead. Completely dead. You did a good job._

He blinked for a moment when he saw Malfoy’s answer then snorted lowly. Even though everyone said Malfoy had a terrible humour, Harry had to admit he liked it rather well.

 

Wait, stop, wind back. He did NOT just think that. Just go on as if nothing happened…

 

_Well, good then… eh… there is no… new Dark Lord or something like that, is there?_

_Weasley!_

Confused, Harry looked up and saw that Ron was frowning at him. He sighed and nodded at him to show that everything was alright but as soon as Ron turned away, Harry knew that he had to expect another talk.

 

_Thanks. So, is there a new Dark Lord?_

_I think I’ve answered enough questions for now, Potter. Class is over soon._

Harry threw a glance at the large clock that hung above the blackboard and then turned to glare at Malfoy. They had only spent an hour. But Malfoy had already turned away from him and stared out of the window again.

 

Harry sighed and was about to pack his parchment away again when he noticed that Malfoy had levitated his own parchment back to Harry because it was laying in front of him, empty again. Grumbling, he packed it also away and decided to ask Malfoy once more as soon as possible. After all, he hadn’t pushed him away as Harry had had expected.

 

The last half an hour, Harry spent in a drowsy half state and when he went to lunch with Ron and Hermione, he felt a little bit more awake than in the morning.

 

While putting some goulash and potatoes on his plate, he was thinking about what he had actually learned from Malfoy. He didn’t have to worry that Voldemort was about to arise again. But he had evaded the question about the new Dark Lord again and again so Harry had to ask more specific the next time.

 

Before he could think about better questions, a voice sounded behind him.

 

“Hello, Harry” Oh oh.

 

“Hey, Ginny…,” he mumbled and lifted his fork to put another portion of food in his mouth.

 

“Do you know that I’m asking myself for days who this black-haired man is that avoids me for weeks now and what he’s done with my boyfriend?” she asked with a voice that was way too calm for his liking.

 

“I’m not avoiding you, Gin’, why would you think that? I see you every night in the common room!” he tried to bluff it out.

 

“Yeah, for about a minute before you decide that you’re tired and want to go to bed. And you don’t deliberately not tell me when we’ve got Quidditch practice anymore!” she snapped.

 

“Eh… you’re good enough already, you don’t any more training! And lately I’m really very tired, you know. Homework and stuff…”

 

“HARRY POTTER! IF YOU DON’T WANT ME ANYMORE THEN YOU’RE GOING TO SAY IT TO MY FACE BUT DON’T ACT AS IF I’M SOME STUPID HUSSY THAT DOESN’T NOTICE ANYTHING! I KNOW VERY WELL THAT YOU’RE AVOIDING ME SO BE MAN ENOUGH TO TELL ME BUT STOP MAKING EXCUSES!” Ginny yelled suddenly and Harry slumped down on his chair. The Slytherins started cheering and he sighed quietly.

 

“I’m sorry, Ginny,” he muttered but when he turned around, Ginny had already stormed out of the Hall. He threw a glance at the Slytherin table and noticed that Malfoy didn’t laugh. Only a small smile played around his lips while he looked towards the door where Ginny had just left in a hurry.

 

“Bollocks,” Harry grumbled and buried his face in his hands.

 

“Well, I did say weeks ago that you should talk to Ginny but you didn’t want to listen,” Hermione exclaimed and he glared at her angrily.

 

“Yes, thank you, Hermione, that’s exactly what I wanted to hear!” he snarled but she only shrugged nonchalantly.

 

“It’s your own fault,” she replied while she ate her dessert.

 

Harry looked at her for a moment then he shook his head and stormed out of the Hall too.

 

*

 

The free hour after lunch Harry spent at the lake where he threw small stones into the water to calm down.

 

“You look as if you’re annoyed,” a voice behind him stated.

 

“You don’t say,” Harry snapped at him. “Piss off!” He threw another stone forcefully into the water and imagined it was Malfoy’s face he had hit.

 

“I don’t think I want to go,” his amused voice sounded again from behind. “It’s much funnier here”

 

Harry only snorted irritated and threw another stone.

 

“If you say so,” he said finally and bend down to pick up a flat stone from the shore.

 

Besides him, Malfoy started throwing stones too but his skipped elegantly five and six times over the water before they sank down.

 

Harry tried as well but it didn’t work.

 

“You have to bend your knees a bit and throw very shallow. Look,” Malfoy said after a few minutes during which he observed Harry’s tries. He showed it to him again.

 

At the next try, Harry made it and a small smile appeared on his lips. “Thanks,” he mumbled.

 

“I think I’m gay,” he said suddenly and looked at the stone he held in his hand. Malfoy stilled for a moment and tilted his head.

 

“You think or you know it?” he asked and threw another stone. This one skipped even nine times before he sank into the water.

 

“I think I know it,” Harry replied quietly. Malfoy smirked.

 

“Well then, congratulation,” he answered.

 

Harry looked up. “That’s it? No taunting? No comments about gays?”

 

Malfoy arched one of his refined eyebrows. “Why would I taunt myself?”

 

Harry’s eyes widened. “You… You’re… I mean… You like…”

 

The boy opposite him rolled his eyes. “I am gay, too. Yes, I’m attracted to men. Merlin, Potter, it’s not that difficult, you know. Just speak after me: I am gay, I like men more than women.

 

Harry grimaced and sighed.

 

“I suppose that’s the reason for Weasley’s yelling back then?” Malfoy asked with interest. Harry scratched his nape sheepishly.

 

“Part of it, yeah. I may have neglected her for a for weeks. And maybe I’ve forgotten to tell her when we’ve got Quidditch practice. And maybe I’ve avoided her. And maybe she just annoyed me,” Harry grumbled who wondered why in the world he was telling all that to Malfoy but somehow it felt good to talk to somebody about it. He couldn’t talk to Ron about it since it was about his little sister and Ginny was Hermione’s best friend so she was out, too.

 

“A lot of ‘maybe’s, aren’t there?” Malfoy asked and arched his eyebrow again. Harry sighed.

 

“Yes, well, delete the maybe,” he muttered.

 

“So, what’s your plan?” Malfoy looked at him and seemed to actually be interested. Harry shrugged.

 

“Break up. I don’t really have another choice.”

 

“You always have a choice,” Malfoy replied. “I bet if you really wanted to, she would take you back with open arms.”

 

Harry looked at him for a long moment, then he nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, you’re probably right. But I don’t want to. It’s better to make a painful break than draw out the agony.”

 

“What?” Malfoy asked confusedly and Harry sniggered.

 

“Just a Muggle proverb. Listen… how do you know if a guy’s gay?” Harry asked suddenly.

 

Malfoy frowned. “Why do you want to know?”

 

Harry rolled his eyes. “Why do you think, Malfoy?”

 

“There’s no recipe, Potter. Once they said that gay people were very much concerned with their appearance but if I look at you then that might not be so true after all,” he observed and Harry, in a bout of childishness, stuck his tongue out at him then grinned.

 

“Well, I’m gonna find out anyway. Thanks, Malfoy.”

 

Before the Blonde could answer, the bell rang.

 

“I guess, we’ll see each other at Hagrid’s soon,” Harry said and smiled at Malfoy once again. “See you”

 

*

 

While Harry was walking down the path towards Hagrid’s hut where they would soon have Care for Magical Creatures, he was wondering if he had just been dreaming. Because that conversation couldn’t have been anything else. Since when did Draco Malfoy talk to him, Harry Potter, that normally?

 

Well, he hadn’t tried to talk normally to him since the war but did a change of side matter that much? Obviously.

 

Harry had thought that Malfoy would return to being the obnoxious ice prince he had been before but apparently, he had been mistaken.

Now he was irritated at himself for not going to Draco in the first place just as the school year had started to at least thank him for his help.

Harry decided to catch up on that during the next days.

 

When the rest of his classmates slowly arrived in dribs and drabs, Hagrid arrived as well, holding a large crate which hid the majority of his face.

 

“I hope that’s not that too dangerous…,” Harry heard Ron mutter beside him and he agreed silently.

 

Slowly, Hagrid put the crate on the ground and beckoned them to come nearer with an excited wave.

 

“Come on, come on, got something real special for you today! It’s a marvel!’ Hagrid exclaimed and raised the lid so that an iron-clad cage could be seen. In it was…

 

Hermione who sat beside Harry gasped. “Hagrid! Is that… a Sphinx?!”

 

“Yep. Jus’ arrived. Look if you can get ‘er to talk. Maybe she’s gonna give you lot some riddles. Everyone who solves one, gets ten points for his house,” Hagrid explained and immediately everyone at once tried to come closer to the sphinx.

 

Harry held back and watched curiously how the Sphinx opened her eyes, gazed over the students in front of her and finally settled on Malfoy.

 

_“If I have it,_

_I don’t share it._

_If I share it,_

_I don’t have it._

_What am I?”_ the Sphinx recited with a metallic sounding voice then she closed her mouth and looked at Malfoy in expectation.

 

The blond thought for a moment, then he nodded. “A secret,” he answered in a steady voice and the Sphinx bend her head.

 

“Correct.”

 

“Brill’! Very well done, you!” Hagrid roared and clapped in his giant hands. “Ten points for Slyth’rin! Go on, next one!”

 

Malfoy retreated and Harry grinned at him. “That was almost too easy,” he murmured as he walked past Harry. The other boy shrugged.

 

“I guess I wouldn’t have gotten it that quickly,” he relied and Malfoy arched a mocking eyebrow.

 

“Of course not,” he smirked.

 

“Ah, piss off,” Harry grinned and shook his head about their kind of discussion. Never before had he had such a casual conversation with Malfoy before but he had to admit – he liked it.

 

“Harry!” Ron approached him and eyed him suspiciously. “What did Malfoy want from you?”

 

Harry shrugged. “Nothing. It’s okay. He didn’t insult me or anything.” Ron frowned after Malfoy.

 

“He’s kinda weird today, don’t you think?” he muttered and Harry arched an eyebrow at Ron’s suspicion.

 

“Not much weirder than the rest of the year. But it’s good that he doesn’t insult us anymore, isn’t it? He’s become an adult, like us. The war did leave a mark on him too, you know,” Harry reminded him.

 

“Pah!” Ron grumbled. “He’s planning something! I don’t trust that damned Slytherin!”

 

“I don’t think he does. It’s already March and he didn’t do or say anything suspicious during the whole school year. I really do think he learned his lesson,” Harry said calmly.

 

Ron narrowed his eyes. “Are you _defending_ that git?! What did he do to you?!” he hissed and drew his wand.

 

“Ron, damnit! He didn’t do anything, we just talked! It’s okay, calm down!” Harry tried to appease his fried.

 

“Do you even listen to yourself? That’s the bloody ferret! He taunted and tormented us _for years_! And now you’re defending him!” Ron snarled and Harry jumped to his feet.

 

“He changed sides, Ron! He isn’t like he’s been before! And maybe someday you’ll see it too!” Harry hissed. Then he turned, went to Hagrid pretending to have stomach aches and returned to the castle.

 

*

 

Since it had been the last period of the day, Harry decided to hide in the library to start with his homework.

After finishing all the easy tasks and not being able to push it farther away without endangering precious Quidditch time, he had to turn towards Potions.

 

They had to do an essay about problems during the mixing of mountain onions and lacewings. Harry searched between the Potions books for the right one but he didn’t find it. Instead, he managed it to get books falling on his head with the edge twice.

 

“Ouch! Dammit!” he grumbled at the third time and looked up with low curses on his lips. An amused snort prompted him to turn around and he saw Malfoy leaning against one of the shelves.

 

“How did you manage to piss those books off?” he asked in amusement and smirked at him. Harry shrugged.

 

“Who knows, today just isn’t my day…” he muttered and sighed.

 

“Do you want to start with the Potions essay?” Malfoy asked and Harry nodded gratefully. Maybe with Malfoy’s help, his essay wouldn’t be as bad as usually.

 

“Yes, but all the books I wanted seem to be out,” Harry replied but Malfoy shook his head.

 

“I’ve got them. Come on, you can have them, I’m finished.” Harry followed him to his table and saw a tidy roll of parchment lying beside the aforementioned books. Harry sighed. His essay wouldn’t look even close as good as Malfoy’s.

 

While sitting down at the table and opening the books, he watched Malfoy take out his Transfiguration book and starting a new essay. Satisfied, Harry saw that even Malfoy had to cross out words and delete them with his wand.

 

After having written half of the required length of his essay, Harry was at his wit’s end. “Damn…” he muttered quietly and thumbed frantically through the books for another clue.

 

“What’s wrong?” Malfoy asked who must have noticed Harry’s dilemma.

 

“I don’t find anything else,” Harry grumbled and cursed when he accidentally ripped a page.

 

“Give it to me!” Malfoy ordered and Harry looked up irritably.

 

“What?” Malfoy pointed at his essay.

 

“Give it to me. I’ll look through.” When Harry still didn’t react, Malfoy rolled his eyes and just took the roll of parchment without waiting any longer.

 

Harry who with Hermione normally had to beg for at least half an hour until she deigned to look through his work was completely dumbfounded.

 

“Eh… thanks?” It sounded more like a question than a statement. A few moments later his essay was back in front of him.

 

“You’ve thought too linear. The approach is good but think deeper here and here. What are the consequences for those who take the potion? And what about the effect? Is it strengthened or weakened? And if so, due to what?” he explained and pointed at a few marked sentences.

 

Harry stared at him as if he had two heads. Hermione could never have told him that in so few words. Finally, he just nodded, he didn’t trust his voice yet.

 

Silently they continued to work and Harry just wrote his essay completely from scratch. An hour later he lay it triumphantly in front of Malfoy.

 

“Read!” he ordered him to and smiled proudly. He was sure that he had never written such a good essay before. At least not in Potions.

 

Malfoy nodded. “Quite well. I’m sure, you’ll get at least an A for that.” Harry beamed.

 

“Thank you!” Malfoy shrugged.

 

“I didn’t do much but no problem,” he replied at grinned slightly.

 

*

 

When Harry returned to the common room four hours later, he was exhausted but also rather proud of himself. Though he had missed dinner, he had been able to finish all his homework for the next day and he had had more than one funny conversation with Draco.

 

Oops. When did Malfoy turn into Draco? That must have happened sometime during the last four hours but Harry didn’t regret it. On the contrary. The more he talked to Draco, the more he liked it and he was sure that there could be a friendship between him and the blonde – if he could convince Ron that he hadn’t been cursed.

 

Harry was so tired that he decided to go straight into bed. While he changed into his pyjama, he suddenly remembered that he had yet to talk to Ginny. In his mind he put it down on his to do list for the next day, then he went to bed and was asleep before his head had hit the pillow.


End file.
